


Stay Gold

by Whisper132



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-10-06 10:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10332965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: A collection of shortworks featuring excerpts from the life of Yuri Plisetsky.  Also known as where I'm keeping my Otabek/Yuri drabbles and ficlets.





	1. The Uninspiring After Show

Yuri sat in Otabek's hotel room, gold medal around his neck, feet kicked up on a small table while he waited for Otabek to finish showering. The TV was off because all the news channels wanted to talk about were Katsudon and Viktor and their stupid Skate of Love. Nobody gave a shit that the bladed pig only won silver; they just cared about Katsudon breaking stupid Viktor's record and how fucking disgustingly cute Viktor and his wife were during their exhibitionist pair skate.

He had a god damn gold medal. He had a world record short program. Where the fuck were his interviews and special interest stories? Why were the fucking pervert and his pig bride on the cover of every newspaper and at the top of every news feed?

"I'm almost ready to go." Otabek walked into the room in black jeans and a towel wrapped around his head. He seemed really relaxed, probably because he didn't win a gold medal and then get completely ignored.

"I don't wanna go out anymore." People would just ask him if he was excited for Viktor's return to competition. They would ask if Viktor was going to choreograph another routine for him and if Yuri was planning to transfer to Viktor as his coach. Nobody was going to ask what Yuri would do now that he'd become the youngest Grand Prix champion in history.

Otabek flicked his towel at Yuri's shoulder. "We're celebrating."

Yuri kicked off his shoes. "We can celebrate here." It's not like he could go out and drink or anything. Technically, he still had a curfew.

"Fine." Otabek fell onto the hotel bed and grabbed the remote. "What do you want to watch?"

"Something where they kill a pig and a pervert." Yuri hefted himself over to the bed and fell onto one side of it. The impact made the pillows give a satisfying pop sound, like their seams were crying in agony and bursting within the case.

"I don't see that." The corner of Otabek's mouth twitched. "They have Aristocats."

"Do whatever you want."

Otabek hit play and leaned back. "Congratulations."

Yuri scooted a bit closer. "Like there was any doubt."

"It was close."

"Shut up and watch the damn movie."


	2. The Phichit Problem

Phichit was dangerous. He looked cute and innocent, but that asshole was ruining Yuri's life, one selfie at a time.

"It's not a big deal," Otabek insisted. The guy'd come all the way to Russia to cheer Yuri on at nationals. He was the only one in the world not fawning over stupid Viktor and his stupid pig bride.

"How the fuck is this not a big deal!?" Yuri raised his phone and flashed Phichit's recent Instagram post. The photo showcased that bastard's giant smile to the left and Otabek tightening Yuri's skate to the right with the caption "A Knight and His Princess!" The photo went live an hour ago, and there were already 3 memes and a Facebook group. "Isn't this shit illegal in most countries?"

"Lacing a skate is illegal?"

Yuri might be able to tolerate Phichit's shitty meme-spawning if he didn't have to deal with Otabek being a smart-ass about it. "Just go talk to him and shut this shit down before I crush his perfect teeth."

"That would definitely be illegal."

"If you weren't the only sane one here, I'd rip you apart," Yuri growled, grabbing onto Otabek's collar and dragging him close. "Make. It. Stop."

A flash went off, and a shiver raced up Yuri's spine.

"We're popular today." The side of Otabek's mouth quirked up just a fraction.

Yuri released the other man's shirt and refreshed his feed. Phichit's smiling mug looked shocked while, behind him, it looked like Yuri was pulling Otabek in for one hell of a kiss. "The Princess is Bold!" it said. Yuri turned off his phone.

"He framed it very dramatically."

Yuri turned to Otabek and gave him the finger. "I'm going back to the rink to practice. Keep that asshole and his camera away from me."

"As the princess commands."

"Fuck off."


	3. Claim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scene from the world of "All Things in Their Time"

After a particularly wonderful dream where Yuri and Otabek tie for World Championship gold and then buy a large cat refuge full of talking tigers, Yuri wakes to an empty bed and a freezing cold room. When Otabek is in town, the bed is crammed to capacity (Otabek sprawls in his sleep sometimes) and Yuri can snuggle against Otabek's warm body and ignore the fact that his heating is broken and his landlord is too much of an asshole to get it taken care of when the frigid mornings are already turning into disgustingly hot afternoons. 

He reaches for his phone to tell Otabek about his dream but lets his hand drop before it reaches the nightstand. Otabek is in Canada now (why the fuck did he decide to switch his rink from Almaty to Toronto again?) and the time difference means that, while it's almost 6 in the morning in St. Petersburg, it's already 11 at night in Toronto, and Otabek is in bed.

"Fuck, I miss you," Yuri hisses at the ceiling. He knows their careers won't last forever, that some day they'll be able to be in the same place all the time and have the luxury of getting sick of each other, but right now all he wants is turn over onto Otabek's chest, sleep an extra hour so he's late to practice, and be completely embarrassed when he wakes up to a pool of his own drool on Otabek's skin. 

Yuri's phone buzzes on the nightstand. "Are you up yet?" Otabek asks in a text.

"Skype. Now." Yuri doesn't wait for Otabek's reply before launching the app and calling. Otabek was already signed in. "If all this bullshit doesn't result in a lot of gold medals, I'm gonna be really pissed off."

Otabek looks exhausted, but his face is stern as he raises an eyebrow and waits, silent.

"I miss you," Yuri says, annoyed that Otabek refuses to just read between the hostile lines, even after all these years.

Otabek's smile is gentle. "I miss you, too." He looks really tired now; his eyelids keep sliding down, almost closing, and shooting up.

It's cruel to keep him awake any longer, but Yuri is selfish. They haven't had a call in a little over a week, and Yuri's starting to think he's exaggerating the memory of how hot Otabek's skin is to the touch. "How's practice going?"

"Long, but good. You?"

"Yakov is getting senile in his old age. He thinks I'm not being emotional enough on the ice." Yuri likes to keep most of his emotions to himself these days, mostly because all of his emotions are about Otabek, and they have absolutely no place on the ice for all the world to see.

"Hmmm." Otabek's eyes are more lucid, the sleepiness fading. "He's probably right." Otabek pauses for a moment, biting his lower lip while he thinks. "But I think you have to find a range of emotions you're comfortable displaying in public, first."

Yuri can see his own expression in the thumbnail camera, and he looks ridiculously sappy. Thank god only Otabek sees him like this. Of course, only Otabek has ever put that expression on his face. "Sometimes," Yuri says once he's recovered from looking at his own lovesick face, "it annoys me how well you know me."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Yuri's quick fingers screenshot the devastating smile Otabek gifts him. He'll crop out his own goofy grin before he posts it to Instagram and reminds the world that this amazing man belongs to him and anyone who tries to steal him will be shredded alive.

"Get some sleep," Yuri tells Otabek. "You have to get up early tomorrow, and I have to get to practice before Yakov says more stupid shit."

Otabek nods. "Practice hard."

Instead of what he wants to say (it's still way too early in the morning for sentimental shit like that), Yuri says, "I always do," and disconnects.

*****

Yuri finds his skating-friendly emotions are jealousy, possessiveness, and rage. After Phichit informs him that someone at Otabek's rink is trying to get a little too friendly (how Phichit finds out is a mystery that Yuri chalks up to Phichit being the biggest busybody in the world), Yuri almost gets a ticket and flies out to take care of things. When he asks Otabek about the crazy girl's Instagram posts with #myfuturehusband and #otabekismineforever, he gets a shrug in return. "She's young and has a crush," Otabek says. "It'll pass."

Patience is not a virtue Yuri Plisetsky is imbued with, and he has no inclination to learn. Still, he doesn't want to disrespect Otabek's wishes, so he keeps his mouth shut and makes a short program he secretly titles "This is How I'll Kill the Bitch if She Touches Otabek." The first time he shows it in competition, Otabek calls him immediately after the broadcast. "It bothers you that much?" he asks.

"Of course it fucking bothers me!" Yuri knows Otabek is an idiot sometimes when it comes to recognizing the feelings of others, but in what universe would a guy not be bothered by some young, stupidly pretty girl hitting on and Instagram stalking his boyfriend? In what universe does a guy just tolerate a crazy stalker for two months and act like nothing weird is going on?

"I'm sorry. I'll take care of it." There's a velvet warmth in Otabek's voice that wraps around Yuri's heart and soothes a bit of the viper poison storing there.

"If she does anything remotely crazy, I'm flying out there and taking her out. I mean it." And he does mean it. He's not sure if that makes him worse than Otabek's fangirl or not.

Five minutes later, Otabek posts a picture to Instagram of himself kissing the ring Yuri gave him. "Did everyone see my love destroy the ice tonight? So proud of @yuri-plisetsky." He seals the deal with #myfuturehusband and #otabeklovesyuri.

Yuri is horribly embarrassed but deeply pleased at the same time. Otabek never says nice shit like this to his face; they've never really been particularly sappy to one another with kissy-faced crap and extraneous words of devotion, and Otabek guards their private lives very carefully, so this is the first time Yuri's ever experienced Otabek publicly claiming him as his "love" before. He reblogs the photo to his own account with an equally as sappy, "Thanks, @otabek-altin. Love you, too!" but can't help adding a quick #propertyofplisetsky and #willcutabitchfortouching just to make sure the message is clear.


	4. For Public Consumption

Otabek's fans are surprisingly polite, even though they clearly think Yuri is a piece of shit hack who's trying to sabotage their beloved Hero of Kazakhstan. They meekly approach Otabek and ask for photos, apologize to Yuri for interrupting their lunch, and then turn their backs on a fucking Grand Prix gold medalist like he's some kind of contagious trash. 

"Thank you for your support," Otabek tells the group of six girls and one very red-faced guy who looks a bit like a Kazakh version of Katsudon, so Yuri can't hate him when he throws an arm around Otabek's shoulders and takes a selfie that puts Phichit's to shame.

"Good luck! We're cheering for you!" They all give their words of encouragement and scuttle away, showing each other their phones and chattering about how amazing Otabek is and how kind Otabek is and, oh, we hope that Otabek will always be the same handsome, noble man he is now.

"They would have asked you for an autograph if you hadn't been scowling at them the whole time," Otabek says. 

"I wasn't scowling." He was probably scowling, but it doesn't matter. Yuri isn't jealous of some stupid teenagers (they looked older than him but they were still teenagers so whatever) interrupting their lunch to show Otabek how very loved he is in his home country. It's fine. Yuri worked his ass off to be able to clear his schedule so he could visit his friend for three days, but he'll gladly fork that over to some annoying brats who just watch a guy skate on TV and pretend to know all the struggles he goes through every day.

"You were scowling, and you're still scowling." Otabek turns his phone around to show Yuri his own grimacing (not scowling) face.

Yuri opens his mouth to tell Otabek off but closes it before he says something stupid and Otabek realizes that Yuri isn't mad because the idiot fans didn't want his autograph; he's mad because this is Yuri's Otabek Time, and they've ruined it. "Sorry," Yuri says. "I'm still tired and don't really want to deal with people." The line is Otabek's usually, but Yuri's been using it more and more recently.

Otabek signals to the waiter a few tables over. "We'll head back home, then. I got a movie I think you'll like."

God, when Otabek smiles, it does something to Yuri's brain and he gets completely stupid. "Whatever." It's probably some children's movie about cats, which Yuri will love but have to bitch about for the first ten minutes on principle. "I'll meet you outside." He runs to the bathroom to make sure his face doesn't show how impossibly happy he is at the prospect of sitting around Otabek's place in sweatpants, drinking the sun tea Otabek made yesterday, and blurting out random cat facts every time a new breed of cat comes on screen.

Those stupid fans could keep their lame "for the public" selfies. Yuri was going to get one of Otabek asleep on his shoulder and destroy the internet.


	5. Banquet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inside of Yuri's brain at a banquet after Otabek wins Four Continents (sometime in the nebulous future)

_Keep your mouth shut, Plisetsky._

"Otabek! It's so good to see you again, my friend! Come and have a seat at the adults' table."

_Do not make a scene, Plisetsky._

"It looks full. I'll go sit over there."

_Do not fuck this up for him, Plisetsky._

"Nonono! We all want to celebrate your big win with you! We'll get cold without another hot body to warm us."

_You'll go to prison if you kill anyone, Plisetsky._

"I'm sitting with Yuri."

_Play it cool, Plisetsky._

"Hey."

_Don't just stare at him, Plisetsky._

"You were very patient, Yura. You didn't scream at any of them."

_Do not drool on the table, Plisetsky._

"Conversations need two people, Yura."

"Beka, we're leaving. Now."

"Fine."

_Well done, Plisetsky._


	6. The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've got Otabek vs. JJ on the brain right now. No idea why, but this is the result.

Yuri was sick of hearing about how mature and wonderful Otabek was. Just because the guy kept his mouth shut in public didn't mean a damn thing.

"Look at this," Otabek hissed, shaking his phone in front of Yuri's face.

In truth, Otabek was a pretty vindictive bastard. The current focus of his wrath was JJ, though Yuri was pretty certain JJ had been at the top of Otabek's Most Hated list for a while. Otabek had three remixes on his phone titled JJSucks #1-3 that consisted of JJ's theme song mixed with various songs that conveyed Otabek's loathing. Otabek spent more time bitching about JJ than he did praising Yuri, which was starting to be a problem.

"Stop stalking JJ. It's gross." And it ate up the valuable time Yuri had put aside to spend hanging out with Otabek before they both had to go home and train for nationals. Granted, JJ got a lot of sympathy votes and Otabek deserved the Grand Prix bronze, but they couldn't really change that now. What they could do was take a shit ton of photos showing how happy they were despite Otabek being robbed of the opportunity to stand next to Yuri on the podium. Damn, that would have been a nice photo.

"I'm not stalking him." Otabek turned off his phone. "I'm just pointing out that he's a smug asshole that needs to be destroyed." 

Why was Yuri the voice of reason in this conversation? And why did Otabek sound so hot when he got that little snarl in his voice? "You were stalking him and now you're sulking about stalking him. You're acting like Katsudon." There was no way that Yuri was going to play Viktor to Otabek's Katsudon. Disgusting. "Snap the fuck out of it so we can go stuff our faces. I have a fucking gold medal, and I'm going to eat some damn carbs tonight."

"You were great." Otabek's scowl morphed into a smile and he reached out to trace Yuri's jaw.

"Except for fucking up my free skate." Yeah, he won, but the margin was way too close. Yuri was better than that shitty free skate performance.

"Now who's sulking?" Otabek's thumb traced over Yuri's bottom lip. "Just do better next time. Maybe they'll figure out a medal above gold so you can be grumpy when you win that, too."

Yuri bit Otabek's thumb, leaving teeth indents but not drawing blood. "And maybe, when I do, you'll finally beat JJ."

"Or I could hire an assassin." Otabek's eyes gleamed. "Or perhaps he'll break something when he's doing that idiotic pose." His eyes glazed over. "Or, better, he could--"

Yuri kissed him because that was the only way he knew to get Otabek to shut the fuck up about stupid JJ Leroy.

"Wow! Look who's here!" 

Otabek backed off the kiss and glared at JJ and his groupies.

Yuri rose from their table. "Leroy, get the fuck out of this restaurant before I kick your no-talent ass back to Canada."

Whether or not JJ left, Yuri had no clue. After Yuri's heartfelt declaration of loathing, Otabek pulled him down for a kiss that would later result in five memes, a lecture from Yakov on discretion, and a congratulatory text from Viktor, asking when their wedding would take place.


	7. OtaBear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curse you, Build a Bear Google Ads!

Yuri stares intently at a wall full of bear carcasses, wondering which shade of bear is rarest in Otabek's collection. A lot of fans drop the standard brown, so that's out. Otabek's family likes to give him black bears, so that's also out. 

"Oh," says the sales associate behind the counter, "we also have a few more seasonal bears." He brings out two more carcasses, one orange and the other a deep velvet red.

"That one," Yuri says, pointing to the red one. 

"A great choice. What firmness?"

What firmness? What is this, a pillow? "Whatever's popular is fine. It doesn't really matter." Yuri's eyes move on to the racks of accessories throughout the shop. There's a small section with leather jackets and another rack with a few pairs of headphones. This surprise present is turning out to be ridiculously easy. He grabs a simple jacket with tiger print lining and a pair of black headphones with silver accents. Just simple enough to be Otabek, but awesome enough to be something Yuri is willing to purchase with a group of Angels hiding in the back corner, pretending to be customers.

"Would you like me to dress it for you?" the attendant asks when he comes back with Yuri's bear.

Yuri nods, watches the salesman carefully place the jacket and headphones on the bear, and then pays. Everything is perfect.

****

Yuri surprises Otabek at his home rink in Almaty on his birthday by tossing the bear onto the rink at the end of practice. "Lookin' good, Altin!" he hoots.

Otabek blushes and his rinkmates laugh. "It's really cool," he says after he skates over to Yuri. "Only you could give me something like this."

There are a lot of things Yuri wants to give Otabek, but the guy is stupidly shy and a little bit dense. Either that, or Yuri is shit at innuendo. "Glad you like it," Yuri says.

They walk back into the locker room, and Yuri watches Otabek change with hungry eyes.

"Don't make that face in front of our son," Otabek laughs, covering the bear's eyes. "You'll scar him emotionally." Shirt still off and a hand still over the bear's eyes, Otabek tugs Yuri over for a kiss. "How long are you in town?" he whispers against Yuri's ear before nibbling on a lobe.

"I've got to go back tomorrow night." Yuri shudders when Otabek starts to trail his lips down Yuri's neck. Why the hell is his hand still over the bear's eyes?

"Get a room, guys," one of Otabek's rinkmates grumbles as he shoves past. Yuri gives him the finger, snatches the bear, and sits down on the changing bench with a thud. When they get back to Otabek's apartment, the bear's staying in the living room.


	8. After the Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt a sudden urge to write about Yuri freaking out after the GPF EX.

As an internationally recognized Responsible Person, Otabek was in charge of letting Yuri know when he was going too far. Asking Otabek to rip a glove off Yuri's hand with only his teeth was clearly going too far, but did Otabek say anything? Nope. He just went with it, allowing Yuri to ignite an international media shitstorm and ruining any chance Yuri had of getting through puberty without becoming a drooling, incoherent mass of hormones. Fuck Otabek Altin.

God, if only…

No. Absolutely not. Yuri is not going to be disgusting like Viktor and Katsudon. He is not going to grow into a slithering ball of perversion like Giacometti. Yuri's future will remain a bright, shining mountain of skating gold with no emotional attachments to anything but Potya. Potya understands Yuri and wouldn't fuck off to Kazakhstan the night of the EX, leaving Yuri frustrated and confused and surrounded by a bunch of fucking losers who wouldn't have been any help at all had Yuri chosen to confide in them.

"Just call him already," Mila grumbles. "Looking at your depressed face is going to make Georgi cry." 

"Leave me alone, you old hag!" Yuri burrows deep into his hoodie. In its generous jersey hood, his peripheral vision is cut off and he doesn't have to see everyone staring at him, judging him. And he knows they're judging because stupid Mila keeps breaking into Yuri's private misery bubble and letting him know exactly who is feeling uncomfortable because Otabek has turned Yuri's surliness into durian-scented cowardice. Otabek hasn't so much as liked any of the posts Yuri's made to Instagram, which he's catered to Otabek's tastes specifically for the purpose of seeing if Otabek is stalking him on social media. 

"Now now, Yurio, that's no way to talk to--"

"Shut the fuck up, you balding pervert!" The worst part, the absolutely most intolerable part of all this is Viktor's fake sympathy thinly disguised as Viktor trying to make everything fluffy and happy and perfect for Katsudon's arrival. They can't have anyone going through a fucking crisis or Katsudon might rethink his decision to train in St. Petersburg. Like that would ever happen. The pig is a freakin' Nikiforov stalker. Yuri's seen the photos of Katsudon's room before he tore all of the disgusting posters down. There's no way the idiot would ever change his mind.

"Yuri! Call for you! It's Otabek!" Mila waves her phone in Yuri's face, and he really wants to play it cool and tell her he's busy, but his hand is grabbing for the phone before his brain can kick in.

"Yeah?" At least he's not spouting stupid shit right off the bat. He doesn't even know what he's going to say. 

"Mila said you wanted to talk and that it was an emergency." Otabek doesn't sound at all convinced that Mila was telling the truth, which proves the asshole can be perceptive when he wants to be.

"Uh...you still have one of my gloves, I think. I can't find it. The glove." What the fuck is he even saying? He has both gloves stashed in a shadow box on his wall with his medal, which Otabek would know if he saw the Instagram post. But Otabek didn't like the post, so maybe he hasn't been checking Instagram and will buy the lie.

"Are you having an actual emergency or not?"

Yes, Yuri is having an actual emergency. He can still feel the moist heat of Otabek's mouth all over his fingers, and he was fucked up in the head enough to jerk off while wearing his Otabek Mouth Glove because suddenly shit like that seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to do. "What kind of emergency could I have that you could help me with all the way over there?" Way to go, Plisetsky, just give the pissiest answer possible and potentially alienate the only person you don't want to die in a smoldering hell pit.

"The gloves were your idea, and it happened two weeks ago. Why are you just now freaking out about it?"

"It's not about the damn gloves!" It's totally about the gloves. More specifically, it's about the look in Otabek's eyes as he ripped one of those gloves off Yuri's hand after sucking down Yuri's fingers. It was a porn move. People do that in porn. Yuri knows because Otabek's overwhelming masculinity ignited some kind of sex beast inside Yuri's groin, and all of Yuri's free time is spent looking at internet porn with short Kazakh actors who only smile one eighth of the time. There are four films on the internet that fit that profile, and one of them takes place in a biker bar. There are gloves and teeth and motorcycles. The Lion King is now only Yuri's second favorite film of all time.

"So you're actually having an emergency?"

"I have a zit, and it's your fault!" Yuri hangs up, annoyed that his mouth is reminding his brain that there's a giant red spot on his chin. Zits are part of hormones, and Yuri's hormones are Otabek's fault. Not only is the jerk neglecting Yuri and being an all-around crappy friend, but he's making Yuri's face into a plague nest.

"That went about as well as I expected," Mila grumbles as she takes her phone back. "Next time we'll make you a script so you can screw up a little bit less." She pats Yuri on the head. "You're just lucky he likes you. I don't know anyone else who'd have the patience for your temper tantrums."

Otabek likes him? How does Mila know? Did Otabek tell her something? Yuri wants to ask, but all he can bring himself to say is, "Shut up," before he heads back out onto the practice ice for one more round.


	9. Why We Can't Have Nice Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, naked Viktor ruining Yuri's dates is stuck in my brain right now. Also The Theme of King JJ. It's a weird mix. Oh, if you have any prompt requests for little drabble bits, feel free to comment. Maybe it'll get Viktor jumping about naked on trampoline while listening to JJ's theme out of my brain.

Yuri's plan for Otabek's first official visit to St. Petersburg as Yuri's Best Friend included museums, a movie, a fancy welcome dinner, and some really nice family owned cafes. Everything was going to be refined and look very, very good when Yuri posted photos of himself and Otabek hanging out on his Instagram.

"Walk slowly and lean on me."

As usual, Viktor Naked Man Nikiforov was ruining everything. He and Katsudon insisted on tagging along to dinner, drank more than either of them could handle, and caused such a fucking scene that Yuri was never going to be able to enter that restaurant again. That was his favorite restaurant, and Otabek didn't even get to taste their famous Chocolate Pyramid, a cake with three kinds of chocolate in both solid and liquid form, shaped like a pyramid and served with a chocolate fudge sauce that was in a sarcophagus pitcher. 

"Just let him go, Otabek. Maybe if the sidewalk scars his naked ass, he'll learn not to be such a lush." 

The worst part, the absolutely intolerable part was that Otabek was walking a naked man down the streets of St. Petersburg, and that naked man wasn't Yuri. Otabek's hands were in safe zones, but they were still touching a naked guy. There was going to be paparazzi photos of Otabek holding a naked Viktor all over social media tomorrow, and Yuri was powerless to stop it, not only because Otabek was too much of a gentleman to let the old pervert find his own way home, but because Yuri was burdened with the slightly more clothed Katsudon, but the pig was so off his rocker that he kept trying to lead Yuri into a tango as they walked. 

"I want to become an alien," Katsudon whispered just before they got to Viktor's apartment. "Then I can impregnate Viktor and we can have a second Makkachin."

"They can make it the rest of the way." He dropped Katsudon's hand, stalked over to Otabek, hip-checked Viktor toward Katsudon, and dragged Otabek off toward an all night diner.


	10. Telephone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a longer thing, but it didn't want to cooperate. I like the scene, though, and thought it captured a nice moment.

Before that first, fateful year on the senior circuit, Yuri Plisetsky filed the humans of the world into three categories: family, competition, and worthless. Otabek Altin was quickly filed into the latter on account of his lack of grace and the fact that he only won bronze at World's. Despite being a newcomer to the senior stage, Yuri knew he was better than bronze, so why should he bother worrying about anyone other than Viktor. Perhaps Chris and that crying Japanese pig, too, but...no. Those two were worthless, just like the rest.

In a rink full of Georgi's lovelorn dramatics, Mila's violent tantrums with every breakup, and Viktor's… and Viktor, Yuri decided early on that things like sex and romance were a distraction. If he needed an orgasm, he could deal with that himself; he didn't need to spend his nights yammering on the phone, begging for the attention of someone else.

"Hey. Potya woke me up so I thought I'd call you."

Potya looked up, glared at Yuri, and went back to sleep.

"You should get sleep. Didn't you have a magazine interview tomorrow morning?"

Before his senior debut, Yuri would never have been the kind of guy to lie about his cat waking him up just so he could steal an hour of phone time, telling Otabek about his day and listening to the deep, rumbling ocean of Otabek's voice. Yuri Plisetsky was now lovesick trash, milling around amongst the worthless idiots he used to mock, and he had no way to stop himself.

Yuri looked at his clock. It was 3 in the morning, and he had to be up in three hours to eat breakfast with Lilia and let her drive him to the meeting location. "It's fine. I'll get more sleep in the car."

"Okay." Otabek yawned. "It's Wednesday," he said. Wednesday was Otabek's hardest day of training. He woke up at 5, went for a run, ate breakfast, showered, and left for the gym by 7. After the gym, he went to the rink for his first round of training. He got a break between 11 and 3, then he went back to the rink to assist with some of the younger skaters; it was part of a deal he worked out to reduce his coaching fees. Once the kids went home at 6, he did another round of practice on the ice. Yuri knew this because he started putting Otabek's schedule in his phone calendar last month, tired of always getting Otabek's voicemail when he called.

"Sorry if I'm bugging you. If you want me to scram, just say something." Yuri would be pissed if anyone called him at 6 in the morning, but this wasn't the first time Yuri'd mysteriously been up during Otabek's morning routine.

"It's fine." There was a pause while Otabek ate a bit of his breakfast. "If it's you, it's fine," he clarified once his mouth was no longer full.

In the full length mirror hanging on the back of his bedroom door, Yuri saw his own stupid smile illuminated by the glow of his phone. "Are you still coming down here next week?"

"You already sent me the ticket."

That had been Viktor's influence. He kept goading Yuri into checking ticket prices from Almaty to Moscow, reasoning that Yuri and Otabek shouldn't ruin their youths by pining away for each other when there were handy discounted flights year round. And surely, Viktor reasoned, their coaches would understand (Yakov did not understand and bitched about it for days) and let their young athletes live a little. 

And then, when Yuri refused, Viktor bought the tickets and sent them to Otabek, telling him that they were a present from Yuri, who was too shy to send them and asked Viktor to be the middleman.

An alarm dinged in Otabek's apartment. "Time to go?" Yuri asked, heart sinking. 

"I'll text you this afternoon. There's a new cat by the gym." Otabek took photos of any cat he found and sent them to Yuri during the day. Yuri had all the photos backed up to his laptop, along with every other photo Otabek had ever sent him.

"I want to see you." The stupid words were out of his mouth before his dumb, sleep-deprived brain knew what was going on. "Fuck, I mean--"

"Next week," Otabek said, his voice laced with a bit of laughter. "Be strong until then." Another alarm sounded. "I have to go." Otabek hung up. They tried polite goodbyes for a few calls, but the calls never ended, and one of them was always late to practice or never got to bed. 

"Why do I keep saying such embarassing shit?" Yuri moaned, shoving his face into his pillow. Potya shifted and climbed onto Yuri's back, circled twice, then curled back to sleep. Feeling guilty that he'd already caused a ruckus twice, Yuri deflated into his bed and left the cat undisturbed for another few hours.


End file.
